


i'm lonely (sitting in this crowded room)

by totallyfxcked (prettypoisons)



Series: All The Lives They Never Got to Live [1]
Category: Deadly Class (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Knives, M/M, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, they are not a couple yet but they Will be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 17:51:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18057233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettypoisons/pseuds/totallyfxcked
Summary: Marcus' head kinda just feels like a whole bunch of scribbles sometimes- like someone had gone fucking batshit with that crayon that looked like it was black but was actually purple. He was a mess. A fucking mess. He felt as if he was the personification of destruction, whether it be of himself or the people around him. He was a wrecking ball, and he was sick of dragging people down with him.(I accidentally deleted this because i'm a Dumbass, my bad)





	i'm lonely (sitting in this crowded room)

**Author's Note:**

> i was dumb and deleted this adsfhksdfhksd anyway. wrote this for fun so i'm sorry if they're out of character or something haha  
> anyway yeah!! thanks for reading and i hope you like it!!

Marcus' head kinda just feels like a whole bunch of scribbles sometimes- like someone had gone fucking batshit with that crayon that looked like it was black but was actually purple. He was a mess. A fucking mess. He felt as if he was the personification of destruction, whether it be of himself or the people around him. He was a wrecking ball, and he was sick of dragging people down with him.

It was almost ironic; he was in a school where the one goal was to not die, and yet that was all Marcus wanted to do.

He had been growing visibly apathetic. One could only pretend to care for so long. He was just so, so tired, and so what if he was letting his classmates beat him up a little more than they should? It was because Marcus deserved it, right? Maybe if he had been just a little smarter, more determined, more psychopathic, things would be easier. 

That’s probably why he barely even tried to fight back as some guy who’s name Marcus couldn’t even remember slashed his knife right across his head.

“Hey, back off him!” Someone said. Marcus was a bit too tired to think about what voice belonged to who.

The same someone pushed the guy off Marcus, punching him in the face. Marcus didn’t stick around to see what happened next. He stood up quickly, twisting on his heel before storming off towards his room. He didn’t bother covering or trying to stifle the blood coming from his forehead. The cut wasn’t too deep, but there was blood dripping down his face. He heard someone following him, their footsteps echoing his own- probably the same person who just played hero- but Marcus wasn't in the mood for talking. He was in the mood to finally dig into the secret stash of cheap alcohol hidden under his mattress. Anything to get rid of the taste of blood on his lips. He slammed the door behind him as he entered the room, but someone opened it and followed him in less than a second later.

"What the fuck were you thinking, dude?"

Oh, so it was Billy. Huh.

Marcus collapsed onto his bed, reaching into the drawer on the nightstand and pulling out a cigarette. He didn’t dignify the green-haired boy with a look. Warm blood dripped down his cheek like tears. Shit, did Marcus want to cry.

"Leave me alone," Marcus' voice was tinged with a practiced apathy, purposefully nonchalant despite the circumstances.

Billy scoffed. “So no ‘thank you, Billy. I would’ve fucking died if it wasn’t for you. You saved my goddamn life?’ What the shit?”

Marcus rolled his eyes, lighting his cigarette before bringing it to his lips and taking a drag. “I didn’t ask for your help. I had it under control.”

“Yeah. I can tell from the way you weren’t even trying to fight back that you totally had it handled. My bad.”

“Cool it with the sarcasm.”

“Says the king of being a smart-ass.”

Marcus sat up, blood dripping down his neck now. “Fuck off, Billy.”

“Jesus. Are you not even going to try to clean that up?”

“I’m fine.”

Billy shook his head. “Do you have a first-aid kit or some shit? A rag?”

“Probably.”

“You’re no help. Do you know that?”

“Yep.”

Marcus was completely silent, doing nothing to make things easy for Billy as he rubbed at his face with a rag from two doors down. It was clear that Billy didn’t have much medical experience aside from shallow scrapes and the occasional black eye. 

“Jesus, Marcus,” Billy said. “Are you okay?”

Marcus laughed. “I just got fucking stabbed.”

“Yeah, duh, dude. I mean, other than that. You’re terrible at avoiding conflict, but you usually try, you know?”

“Yeah. I know.” was his dismissive response. “Have you ever gotten burned by a cigarette?”

Billy paused. “Why?”

“What does it feel like?” Marcus gazed curiously at the cigarette in his hand, suddenly distracted by its glow. Pain was enticing.

“Um, well, you definitely don’t want to find out.”

“But what if I did?”

Billy blinked. “This doesn’t sound like a hypothetical anymore, dude.”

Marcus took a drag. “Hm.”

“Marcus.”

“Yeah?”

“What is up with you lately?”

“My head,” Marcus decided on. “It feels like scribbles.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t fucking know. It’s like… I’m a page out of a coloring book that some two year old started and then forgot about and the parents threw the thing away when the kid wasn’t looking. Waste of space. Born to be incinerated.”

“You’re a melodramatic son of a bitch. You know I don’t get your twisted metaphors.”

“Sorry, I thought ‘waste of space’ was pretty self-explanatory.”

“No way in hell you’re a waste of space,” Billy said as if it was obvious as he wiped the last bit of blood from Marcus’ chin. “If you were, I wouldn’t be here.”

Marcus laughed sardonically. “Oh, so you’re saying you wouldn’t play nurse for any old rat who went and got themselves hurt?”

“Fuck no. I hate this shit.”

“Then stop. I don’t care if I get hurt. I don’t care if I die.”

“But I do. I care if you get hurt. I care if you die, dude. You’re like my best friend.”

“Best friend?”

“It’s like I said, Marcus. Life is about the people you love and what you do for them. I know I would do a hell of a lot for you, and-”

“I’d do a hell of a lot for you, too, no matter how sappy you are,” Marcus finished, smiling sadly at his friend. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Trying to get myself killed. It’s harder than you’d think, you know.”

“Let’s make a deal. If you ever want to look for Death, try looking for me instead. I’m not the Grim Reaper or anything, but I like to think I’m a decent stand-in.” Billy held out his hand for Marcus to shake.

Marcus took it with only a moment of hesitation. “Yeah. Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks again for reading this!! it's greatly appreciated!! i love love love comments but i am def not looking for any negativity this is just me projecting onto characters i like lmao


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